Another Sunday Shot to Hell
by Michelle H. C. Zhu
Summary: Amelda and Varon try their hand at friendship.


_Another Sunday Shot to hell_, Amelda thought, irritated at the sight in front of him.

He had woken up this morning surprisingly in a good mood. Fueled by his oddly cheerful disposition, he had decided to wear something less revealing and stuck to a button-up shirt with a vest thrown over it. In his new-fangled attire, (at least for him) Amelda had rushed downstairs knowing that there was a chocolate-glazed doughnut waiting for him.

Oddly enough, the three of them had a rather friendly game of poker the other night for the last doughnut from the box. Amelda had won in the end, of course. He cheated and ended up with a royal flush, but whatever to that, because Raphael deserved that kick to the crotch anyway.

Unfortunately for him however, he entered the kitchen with a storm of thunderclouds looming over his head as the redhead found Varon sitting at a table and taking a huge bite out of his doughnut with a depressed look on his face. Amelda silently fumed at the very thought.

Personally, he didn't get what Varon saw in that Kujaku woman anyway. She talked _way_ too loudly, flipped her hair _way _too much, and dressed _way_ too flashy. And that was coming from a guy who wore a shirt that exposed most of his waist. He grimaced and silently thanked the lord that he wasn't cursed with the taste of liking that sort of a woman. Reverting his attention back to the younger boy, he was about call the brunette a huge love-stricken idiot and that he could go wallow in misery in his own room...

...when Varon took another huge bite out of the doughnut, unaware of his presence in the kitchen.

Amelda, now completely furious Varon for eating his doughnut in hopes of binging away his sorrow, snatched the treat out of his hands and began to yell at him. "What do you think you're doing?" he screamed.

Snapping out of his mournful daze, Varon blinked slightly to comprehend his surroundings before spotting the redhead currently present in the room. He gave the older boy a look of confusion. "What's up with you?"

Amelda fought the urge to smack him upside down. "Doesn't your tiny brain remember the wager we had last night?" he growled, the annoyance clearly reflecting in his voice.

Varon merely cocked his head to the side in response. "Hey. Are you PMSing or something?" he asked curiously, completely unaware that he just stepped into the lion's lair.

"I mean just because—" Amelda stopped in mid-rant when realization struck him. He glared dangerously down at Varon with narrowed gray eyes. "Are you insulting my masculinity?"

The look of misery was quickly replaced with a cocky smirk as Varon stepped up to the challenge. "Well, I can't say I'm insulting your masculinity. Maybe your womanly succession, however..."

An indignant sputter. "E-excuse me?"

"Hey, it's nothing personal." The brunette shrugged nonchalantly with a wicked grin gracing his lips. He shoved hands behind his head and leaned back on his chair. "I says them as I sees them."

Amelda could only glare lividly at the shorter boy with his gloved hands clenched at his sides, nearly crushing the doughnut into crumbs. "Why I oughta..."

"Well, well, well. It looks like you and Mai have a thing in common," Varon stated and eyed the mashed doughnut in silent amusement. "Uncontrolled anger to mash things random objects into tiny bits, perhaps?"

That was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Amelda exploded in anger and jabbed a gloved finger into Varon's chest. "Don't you go comparing me to that loud-mouthed slut!" he spat.

Varon's countenance changed so quickly that the redhead barely had time to blink as he rose up from his chair and slapped his hand on the table with an intensive fire blazing in his blue eyes. "Don't you go calling Mai a slut!" he shouted back, anger clearly present in his voice.

"Give me one reason not too!"

"**HAH**!" he smack pointed a finger at his rival. "She's a lot better of a duelist, a whole lot prettier, and has a better fashion sense than you any day! _CROSSDRESSER_!" he finished loudly and crossed his arms with a smug smile, knowing that he just screwed Amelda in the face.

Varon suddenly blinked, and a dumb look appeared in his expression. He scanned Amelda's unusual outfit before realizing how wrong his last statement sounded. "...did you go shopping with Raphael yesterday?

Amelda was about to make a smart remark when the mental image of big, chunky Raphael gleefully looking at little lady dresses with sunflowers on them entered his mind. A slight blush entered his cheeks and he quickly shook his head to clear the unwanted picture.

"Well, you must have gone shopping with someone," Varon stated in a matter-of-fact way and grinned devilishly. "You went with Dartz, didn't you?"

He quirked an eyebrow. For some reason, a very gleeful Dartz looking at little lady dresses with sunflowers on them didn't seem as...wrong.

"No."

"Wait...so you went with Kaiba?" Varon asked, now confused, and sat down in the chair again.

He didn't even want to visualize that image.

"...no."

"Then who..."

"_I DIDN'T GO SHOPPING_!" Amelda finally lost his patience with Varon's stupid antics and was on the verge of pulling his hair out.

"Oh." He blinked for a few seconds before opening his loud mouth again. "So how did you..."

"Varon, you MORON!"

It took the strain of every muscle in his arm to prevent his hand from clenching into a fist and pounding the stuffing out of the brunette. It was indeed another Sunday shot to hell, Amelda irately mused. He would spend the rest of the morning arguing with the Varon here, until Raphael came in and broke them up or Dartz summoned them to another assignment or something like that.

Varon grinned wickedly.

Amelda snorted. He pulled out a chair from the table and sat in the seat, an irritated expression on his face. "Stop comparing me to Miss Loud-mouth."

Varon frowned. "Mai isn't such a bad person, you know."

Amelda quirked an eyebrow, surprised that the meaningless argument had stopped already.

"She was probably the only person to ever understand me," Varon said quietly, his cocky grin and playful demeanor vanishing into thin air as he returned to his previous depression.

He gazed longingly outside the window as if escaping outside was the most important thing in the world.

Amelda felt his annoyance wear down. "No, she wasn't such a bad person..." he agreed. He paused. "But she still's a slut."

A glare was shot in his direction but nothing was said.

The two bikers sat at the table for a few minutes, an air of stillness hovering over them as each boy was left to his own thoughts.

"You know," Varon suddenly broke the uncomfortable silence. "When I first met you, I seriously thought you were a girl."

A twinkle in his eyes indicated it was merely a playful remark, not meant for an insult.

Amelda gave him a dirty look but kept quiet. Raphael had thought he looked unbelievingly feminine as well and so did Dartz. He inwardly shuddered.

Unknown to his Master, but the Amelda secretly thought that the Atlantean looked even more girly than he himself did, with the long eyelashes and the ponytail and all. The image of the sunflower dress momentarily came back to haunt him.

"...and then I thought you were hitting on me."

The brunette's chuckle snapped him out of his thoughts. Amelda frowned at the thought and crossed his arms in an aggravated manner.

"Sorry, but even if I was gay, you would definitely be out of my range. I have a problem with stupid people," he replied dryly.

Varon looked insulted and stuck out his tongue at his comrade. Amelda smirked in response.

"Well...at least I'm not stupid as that Wheeler kid is," he grumbled.

Amelda raised a maroon eyebrow. "You mean the blonde that beat your Mai?"

He watched in satisfaction as Varon turned a nice shade of red that could easily match his own hair color. He swelled for a few seconds before bursting in his comrade's face.

"HE DID NOT BEAT MAI!"

"...calm down, Varon. I'm joking." The redhead leaned back on his chair and shoved his hands behind his head; his gray eyes scanning the kitchen ceiling with an uncanny interest.

Amelda never thought himself as a heartless person, but he didn't really care about Varon's unrequited feelings towards the Valentine woman anymore. Love triangles were tiring and rather painful, and it would end up hurting the blue-eyed boy. He sighed and ran a gloved hand through his crimson locks.

"I don't get what you see in her anyway, she's a slut in any terms you put it," Amelda repeated himself for what was the third time that morning.

A pause.

Surprised at the unusual silence from the younger boy, he glanced in Varon's direction and half-expected to see the blue-eyed boy wielding a huge frying pan, aimed and ready to bash his head senselessly for ever doubting his one and only love.

Instead, he was greeted with a distressful picture. A crouched figure, his thin frame shaking uncontrollably. Varon's eyes were downcast and shadowed by chocolate bangs, his glance currently directed at his clenched hands.

Upon seeing his unexpected reaction, Amelda suddenly felt something break inside of him. Disgust at Varon for being so weak? Anger towards Mai? A twinge of regret, perhaps?

"She was the first and last person I had ever loved," he choked out in a broken voice.

Amelda closed his eyes and nodded. "You know she doesn't love you back, right?"

A heaved sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his gaze to the table. "...I know."

"And you still plan to chase after her?"

"None can compare." Varon responded almost instantly, his voice laced with sorrow. "She was the only person I ever cared about."

It was ridiculous, he supposed. But a little nagging in the back of his mind suddenly triggered an urge to ask something that had been bothering him for all this time.

"...what about me?"

Amelda felt the sudden brush of air caress his cheek as Varon snapped his head up to look at him, his spiky hair rustling in the wind.

Another rush of silence hovered over them as the blue-eyed boy looked down again.

"...when I first met you, I really did think you were a girl." He admitted finally.

For a second, there was a twitch of disgust and distrust in Amelda's expression. After all these years of locking himself up and pushing everyone out, he had finally opened his heart again for a brief moment, hoping there was someone else in the lonely world who could understand his feelings, experience his grief and sadness.

Guess I was wrong again, he thought darkly.

It was all a joke to Varon, wasn't it? The idiot enjoyed watching him squirm and would probably laugh in his face later. He had wasted enough time here. The older boy was ready to get up table and leave, when the brunette's next words took him by surprise.

"...but no matter what you looked like, I knew that you would be a good friend, eventually." Varon was staring directly at him, a genuine smile flickering on his lips.

Amelda blinked, unsure of what he had just heard.

"You think that I'm closer to Raphael than I am to you." Varon continued softly, his gaze now leaving the redhead and following a small painting of a flower that hung above the kitchen sink. "You think that we fight too much and that I really hate your guts."

"But the truth is you were the first one I trusted when I joined Doma."

As his eyes traced the outline of the lily, he vaguely remembered their first meeting. He had walked into Doma with a cheerful smile and welcoming words, hoping to find someone who would accept him, but was only greeted with a sideway glance from Raphael and suspicious glare from Amelda. A bitter grin entered Varon's expression.

"...even with your uncaring attitude and cold silence..."

His gray eyes widened in realization.

"...you were my first friend."

Silence.

Varon torn his eyes away from the painting to gaze directly at redhead.

Amelda quickly cast his eyes down, hoping that the brunette didn't spot his sudden display of emotion. His mind was wiped totally blank. Any negative emotions of disgust and mistrust had long since been discarded into his mental trash bin, leaving the older boy with a huge wave of confusion.

"Varon..." he started slowly, avoiding eye contact, unsure of the right words to say. "...I mean I, than—"

"—you know Amelda; you look pretty good in that vest." Varon said suddenly, throwing all the dramatic atmosphere clear out the window. His quiet facade evaporated into thin air and quickly replaced with his usual mischievous grin.

The redhead stopped in mid-sentence, gaping at his fellow Doma warrior with disbelief written over his face. He vaguely wondered if the younger boy in front of him had secretly being hiding the fact that he was a deranged scherzo all these years and toyed with people's emotions just too gleefully watch them suffer.

"I mean, you look less gay, of course." Varon corrected himself with a tone of finality in his voice. Having that said, he scooted back from the chair and got up from the table.

"I'll be taking that." He said coolly and plucked the half-eaten doughnut out of his rival's frozen hands. Amelda was in too much shock to realize what he had just been deprived of and continued staring at Varon in astonishment.

"Now I don't want you to get all mushy mushy on me." The brunette stated flatly, placing a hand on a hip and scowling at the older boy. "Bad for your tough-guy, '_I'm a loner, don't bother me'_ face. People will start thinking your going soft."

Amelda blinked blankly for what had to be the fourth time during the five-minute time span.

"So, I'm going to look for Mai now." He waved the doughnut nonchalantly in the air. "Tell Master Dartz I won't be back till I find her. Catch you later, mate!"

He gave Amelda an all-knowing wink and a friendly hand gesture, but not before taking a huge bite of the doughnut and waving the remainder of the glazed pastry in the his comrade's face.

Without a second glance, Varon strolled out the kitchen in a causal manner.

Amelda stared wordlessly after him before the realization dawned upon him.

"VARON…_MY DOUGHNUT_!"


End file.
